Fairytale Story
by RusNydia
Summary: Shrek parody-ish. All Fenrir wanted to do was having a nice and peaceful life with his mate, having sex like bunnies wherever and whenever they wanted. Now he's forced to find some spoiled little princess in the middle of beep all before said mate dies. But what happens when he finds that this princess is more than meets the eye? Fenrir/Severus Fenrir/Narcissa Narcissa/Voldemort
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all about this story! I don't own the characters, the plot for the most part, or even the settings.

At first this was a Shrek-inspired story and rather funny… then I edited and kept going and this is the product.

Warning: language, slash, sexual themes, violence, gore… offensive talking/behavior. General bad people stuff.

(**)

The dungeons was a cold, dripping place with large executioners standing at the corners, heavy swinging axes in their hands and a dark hood on their heads. In the middle of the room was a table and on this table was a… gingerbread man. Yes, I shit you not, a gingerbread man was lying in the middle of the metal table with his hands glued down by melted sugar so he couldn't escape.

"Come on you guys, I'm just a gingerbread man! I don't know nothing, I swear it on my gumdrop buttons!" the gingerbread man pleaded for his sugary life.

"Your gumdrops mean nothing to me," a snake like voice answered nastily. The gingerbread man whimpered, his icing mouth turning down in a frightened frown while he yanked desperately at the melted sugar holding him down. The mug attached to the ugly voice was just as hideous! The man-snake hybrid thing was something about of a Stephen King book with a bald white head and glowing red eyes, a distinct lack of a nose and sharp yellow nails. This horrible snake-man leaned close to him, sharp gleaming teeth apparent to his candy dot eyes.

"Okay, I'll tell you anything you want to know, just close your mouth!" the gingerbread man pleaded loudly. The man-snake smirked and backed away although the gingerbread man had the vague idea that the man thought he was scared of his sharp teeth rather than the rotten-mice smell coming from his mouth. It was deadly and the gingerbread man refused to die because of bad breath.

"Give me the secrets that I wish for!" the man narrowed his eyes in a way that might have been malicious had the gingerbread man hadn't been thinking the muffin man on Dreary lane—that fucker owed him sixty gold coins for that fight last week.

"I just… why did you have to steal me? I haven't seen Fred and George in months!" the gingerbread man whined, taking his money off the bet and focusing on the task at hand. Fred and George were his creators and had instilled him with bits of their personalities and well, they made him a talking gingerbread man which was an accomplishment that no one had succeeded with yet.

"Tell me the SECRET!" the man bellowed, leaning close once more. The gingerbread man flinched and let out a choked sob as he tried to stop the sugary bile that began in his poor cookie tummy. He opened his mouth to string together some kind of bullshit that the man would want to hear if only to get him out of his face. This was made null and void as the door was suddenly thrown open and bright light blinded everyone momentarily.

"My Liege, we have found it!" a masked man called urgently. The snake-man hybrid let out a smirk that truly sent shivers down the gingerbread's back but he did recall that the man was actually King Voldemort which was nice to know… if only it got him out of there quicker. King Voldemort turned on his heel and gestured impatiently.

"Bring it in, you fool."

'It' turned out to be a woman with huge glasses, frizzy brown hair and an expression that said she was unquestionably lost. She was escorted down the stairs in short pushes, nearly tripping over her retina damaging shawls and scarfs and other fashion backward items.

"So you're Sybill the Seer?" Voldemort observed her with doubt in his eyes.

"No she's not!" the gingerbread man blurted desperately. How had she gotten captured? It had taken a lot of work and hassle to make sure the old wench stayed where she was but noooooo, she just had to get herself in this dank dungeon! Voldemort hadn't even bothered to glance back at him, obviously hearing the lies in his cookie throat.

"Sybill the Seer, what do you hear?" Voldemort half mocked out the incantation that would cause the woman to tap into her power. He glided closer to her as she became stiff and she fell dramatically to the floor. She let out a gasps and moans, shivering in her shawls although no one seemed very concerned if she hurt herself on the ground.

"What is it that you desire to know, King Voldemort?" the woman in a deep, eerie voice that echoed but was almost ineffective as she continued to make odd noises and flop around on the ground.

"I have jewels, a kingdom with power that no one has ever dreamed of and yet… I find that I am still not happy. Tell me how to fix this," Voldemort demanded. It was dangerous for his thoughts to be this unfocused and unhappy, it would make him slip and fall before the blade of an enemy. Sybill the Seer went still and silent, obviously going into the spirit world before she drew a deep breath.

"What you need, My Liege, is a princess!" she intoned in heaving breaths, jumping to her feet. She reached inside her robes and suddenly threw down a powder, showing a picture of a relatively young woman lying with a glass coffin of some sorts with seven midgets surrounding her. Voldemort idly noted that they all had flaming red hair with the dead woman having a more subdued color.

"Here is Princess Molly, trapped in a cursed sleep where true love's kiss where awaken her. She likes to cook and taking care of her seven children!" Sybill the Seer introduced the first woman.

"Seven KIDS!?" the gingerbread man gasped and then realized that the seven 'midgets' were actually kids! Voldemort's face twisted in disgust at the very thought of being around children in general especially if they weren't from his own loins. Besides, how many true loves did the wench need when her legs are spread easier than peanut butter? (Nice burn! Voldemort congratulated himself). Sybill the Seer half glared then moved on to create another illusion, this one of what appeared to be another woman but this one was a blond. She leaned against a tower's window, her facial expression stating that she was obviously sad but still oh so beautiful as her perfect blue eyes stared up at whatever caught her fancy.

"Contestant number two is Princess Narcissa who was ban—," before the frizzy haired seer could continue Voldemort thrust out his hand. This was the princess that he wanted. She was so painstakingly beautiful and obvious in need of someone to control her. It might help that she didn't need him to be there to make her able unlike a certain red haired princess.

"Her! I'll take her," Voldemort said firmly. Sybill the Seer opened her mouth to object or to give him some kind of warning that Voldemort couldn't exactly say he cared about. He gave her a glare so hot that she flinched back and began to stammer out where Voldemort could find the princess. Apparently she was trapped in a tower far away, on the top of a volcano with a large monster guarding her.

Now the only problem that Voldemort had was finding a way to get her without actually leaving his kingdom in case someone had the bright idea to attack. Then a smile crept across his mutated face. Shivers ran down backs almost immediately and several let out a high pitched screams as they fainted at such a horrendous sight but pants would have been pissed on had they heard his dastardly thoughts of pure evil.

(**)

Fenrir Greyback awoke with a smile on his face. It was a natural reaction to having the best life known to mankind. He had a beautiful home secluded in the 'Forbidden Forest' although why anyone thought it was dangerous was up in the air. Sure there was him, a man that could turn into a ferocious beast at a drop of a silver piece, a few creatures that didn't like to be startled and perhaps a vicious wizard that would tear off someone's face if his privacy was invaded. Speaking of a vicious wizard and the second thing that put a smile on his face…

"Huh?" a look of confusion came to the scruffy man's face as he rolled over and faced emptiness. His lover of three blissful years wasn't in the bed which immediately set off bells within Fenrir's mind. It was a well-known fact that Severus was not a morning person. In fact, it had taken months for Fenrir to develop the speed he needed to dodge the hexes his lover would spit at any interruption to his sleeping schedule. However, it had only taken him a few weeks to realize that Severus would allow an early awakening should it be done via nipping bites and mind blowing fellatio. That had been Fenrir's plan when he blinked open his eyes and felt what nature thought of his lustful dreams.

"Severus?" Fenrir called, listening to the silence that greeted him. Now that was odd, there were only a few reasons as to why Severus wouldn't answer him and he had been doubly sure not to anger the prissy little potions fanatic so that couldn't be it. It could also be that he was in his laboratory.

Ignoring his morning wood that would likely stab someone's eye out if not taken care of was something that Fenrir was not familiar with doing but it was for the greater good of having some hot ass around it instead of his hand. He rolled out of the large bed and landed on his feet, straightening to his tall height—and he truly was a tall man—and began to stalk through their home. He took a deep breath once he reached the living room, his barrel of a chest rising as the air rushed through his nostrils. Faintly, he could smell cooked food. A perverted smirk crawled its way on his face, bright blue eyes darkening with lust. He so loved to fuck Severus right against the kitchen sink but he had to catch him by surprise lest the man convinced him to take the shag to their bedroom.

"Who in the FUCK are you!?" Fenrir demanded with a nasty growl. He looked at the man sitting at his kitchen table, a fork lifted with a pile of eggs on it in an obvious trail to his mouth. He definitely wasn't his mate what with that snooty expression on his masculine face and the wine red hair that reminded the ever friendly Fenrir of spilled blood.

The unknown man put down the fork and slowly wiped his mouth with a silk handkerchief as though Fenrir wasn't there then he began to clean his hands with the air of a man in obvious need of a good fuck. Fenrir definitely wouldn't be the one to provide it but he could cut off the bastard's limbs and shove them right up his ass—that should provide enough stimulation.

"Your little wife makes a wonderful meal," the man taunted absently. Fenrir stalked forward and wrapped his large hand around the prissy (and not his mate's kind of prissy that he enjoyed) man's tanned neck, cutting off whatever words he was going to say afterwards.

This bastard not only insulted his mate but had the audacity to eat the meal that said mate prepared him!? Fenrir split the bastard from pelvic to throat with only his nails. The man pounded pathetically at him, blood falling everywhere and gurgles of pain and death leaving his closed off throat. It was only by the luck of the Gods that the wined haired man hadn't thought of kicking Fenrir directly in his raging erection. If he had done that… well, he would have lived longer but not in the way he would have wanted.

"Fucking idiot," he scoffed and dropped the weakly twitching (soon to be dead) man, giving him a good kick in the ribs with his now blood covered feet. Then he plopped down on the wooden chair to eat the rest of the breakfast. The other hadn't actually gotten that far, fucking pansy probably couldn't scarf down a real man's breakfast, and it wasn't cold which meant that Severus either used a status spell or he had just recently left. Hm, or this fucker kidnapped his mate and had stayed back to explain the ransom. He doubted that was the case especially seeing as Severus was about as hard to subdue as he was and twice as spiteful.

Then Fenrir spotted the note in Severus' familiar sharp handwriting only a couple of inches from the salt. He grabbed the paper and held it at an appropriate length to read it while still gobbling down the delicious pork bacon.

Fenrir, as you have probably realized, I am not there at the present moment. What you probably do not know is that I doused you with a sleeping draught that should allow me to come back before you awaken but due to your different metabolism, I highly doubt it. It is not that I feel the need to explain myself but rather if you disturb me during this delicate state in harvesting, I shall soon find myself with a lovely throw rug. I am serious Wolf. Do NOT bother me until I return home if you wish to keep your libido sated. I also expect the house to be as cleaned as I left it: spotless in other words. On another note, I love you and shall see you sometime in the evening.

Severus

Fenrir reread the message again, making sure that it wasn't forged nor had some clue for Fenrir to follow if Severus had been kidnapped while making breakfast (and to understand certain threats seeing as he admittedly wasn't the brightest man in the world) but no, it seemed to be on the up and up. He snorted at his foolish thought of someone actually kidnapping that vicious firecracker he called his mate. It was outrageous just to think about.

On his way to toss the dishes into the sink, he nearly tripped over his unwanted guest, abruptly remembering the fucker was there. And that brought up a serious problem. Although Severus's bite was much worse than his bark, there weren't a lot of threats he carried out when he spat them at Fenrir. However, there was one serious threat that always got Fenrir to dance around like a trained poodle and that was the threat of getting blue balls. If Fenrir wanted to get laid in the next week then he'd clean up the blood and get rid of the body.

(**)

Fenrir sat up and wiped the sweat he had worked up off his forehead. He had taken care of the body by giving it to the huge talking plant that Severus had in their backyard (the entire forest was their backyard but this particular plant was only a couple of yards behind their house). It had been absolutely giddy at the prospect of a relatively fresh kill and had started gobbling the corpse down with its razor sharp teeth before Fenrir had even stepped away. At the very least it was too busy to start singing.

However, now that that was done and the floor had been scrubbed of all the blood that wasn't a permanent stain he was dreadfully bored. Without Severus in the house to keep him entertained (sexed up) there wasn't much for him to do which led to the brilliant idea to go outside and stretch his limbs. It wouldn't do for him to lose the muscled physique that made Severus swoon at the very sight of him. Okay Severus didn't swoon but he did get a feral look in his dark eyes and practically became a wanton bitch in heat when Fenrir stepped into a room free of clothing.

And so Fenrir stepped outside in the shining sun and took off at a quick run, not bothering to change forms. This was a time to remain human on the off chance that his other form would forget about the ban to Severus's harvesting and decided to go hump the man thus banishing him to the lumpy couch for a week and maybe losing a bit of his tail.

By the time Fenrir was done running around and terrorizing several adventurous hikers, the sun was setting which was fine by Fenrir. He was ready to eat a good meal, toss his mate onto a wall and fuck his pale body until it flushed red. Fenrir felt his penis twitch as the thought of finally tapping the ass that he had been waiting since morning to tap. It would be a spectacular show of sweating bodies, prostate pounding induced screams and skin slapping skin.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Fenrir growled as he spotted the obvious group of people 'hiding' behind a few bushes and boulders. Was the universe against his need to tap his mate's ass or was this karma getting him back for his brief stint of insanity in his early days? Never mind that, he was either going to kill these fuckers or… well, killing them was the only thing he could think of but he was sure to get some creative ideas. With these hateful thoughts in mind, Fenrir dropped down into a half crouch and made his way stealthily over to the group.

(**)

"Okay, for those of you who have no idea why you're here… well, I'd rather you stay in the back or something because the last thing I want is to end up dying," Ron started as he cast looks at his men. He was the strategist of this little shindig and he'd be damned if his head went on a platter because these people were idiots. He would honestly feel better with his normal partners but they had caught a bad case of the Chicken Flu.

"Don't be a berk Ron, just refresh some of our memories," Seamus waved a casual hand, propped against a boulder although he never took his eyes away from the cabin at least fifty meters away. The lights were on, signaling that someone was in there but they needed a solid plan for this particular mission.

"Oh fine," Ron pouted a bit, "Our King, the lovely man that he is, has decided that he wants us to stall this Fenrir Greyback guy for as long as possible. I'm sure it has something to do with his little 'get a princess to marry' plan but I could be wrong. Our mission is to safely capture and detain this man without hurting him. Anyone has a question? Yes Neville?"

"Did… did you say Fenrir Greyback?" the nervous looking man bit into his lip and shifted hesitantly. Ron wasn't actually sure why the man had been called in for this particular job but he supposed that he couldn't complain considering how many people had bowed out or simply ran the other way at even the mention of the couple in the woods.

"Yes, Fenrir Greyback and yes, he might just live up to his legends seeing as the messenger sent to calmly collect him never came back," Ron sighed. He rather liked Rabastan Lestrange when he wasn't being a complete arse and he had been a fantastic lay. Alas, it seemed that he would be going back to Hermione.

"I heard that he killed seventeen Aurors without turning into his werewolf form," Neville whispered, his brown eyes darting from the house and to their leader's face.

"I heard that his lover is an evil, crazy wizard that feeds him potions to keep him under control," Pansy folded her arms snottily over her ample bosom. Honestly, why had they allowed a woman out here in the first place, he would never know. Of course, he would never allow Hermione to catch wind of his sexist thoughts lest he be hexed from Hell and back.

"I heard that he likes to infect anyone that comes to his property," another voice added.

"Where did you…?" Ron's eyes widened as he came to the slow realization that there was an extra in their group. His mouth immediately went dry and he pulled out his wand, pointing it at the man but he already knew that it would do no good. As a collective group, they backed away from the man, their eyes taking in everything at once.

He was huge with rippling muscles and a hairy chest that they could clearly see through his straining shirt. Eyes that were an unnatural, almost wolf-like blue gazed out at them with malicious intent while his lips curled up to reveal yellowed, unnaturally sharp teeth. His long brown hair hung in wild tendrils in his face while a short, rather scruffy beard completed his dangerous psycho look that shouted to anyone not blind, deaf, and dumb 'I'M FENRIR GREYBACK AND I WILL EAT YOU!'

"Now what was this I heard about a King?" Fenrir growled, hands curling into claw like hooks.

"Ah, my good sir! I am Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington. Our King has sent—," Nicolas's words were cut off by his sudden lack of a head. It wasn't completely off, just hanging on the side with a thin patch of muscle and skin keeping it on his shoulders. His eyes blinked reflexively and his body ran around like… well, like a chicken without its head.

"HOLY SHIT, I'm out of here!" Seamus shouted, turning tail and running off. The rest of the capture team did the same, having self-preservation ingrained in their bodies despite the punishment that they were likely to receive once they returned to their King unsuccessful.

Fenrir was too busy rushing to his house, no longer worried about the fucking idiots that had tried to take him. He burst through the door, ignoring the fact that he had literally broken the door and rushed through it, breaking into his lover's Potions lab only to turn up empty handed. Panic started to settle in the man's chest, and it was all he could do to not simply crumple where he was. No, he had to stay strong, he had to find Severus and hopefully make it in time to save him from capture. 'Think you great oaf!' Fenrir's inner voice snapped in a voice that was painfully akin to Severus'. Okay… okay, harvesting! Severus said that he was harvesting and would be back at sunset but where was he harvesting!?

"_Oh, unh! Deep—harder! W-what did you say? My harvesting? Yes, right there! Why are you interested in that… are you feeling sentimental and worried about my wellbeing?"_

_"Stop being an uptight little bitch and just tell me or I'll stop fucking ya."_

_"I highly doubt that you can stop thinking with your penis, you lecherous beast… the ingredients I harvest during the full moon or at dawn are normally by the Lake. Do well to not trample anything in those areas while you are trotting around. Dammit, put your back into it!"_

Fenrir pulled himself out of his memories and immediately shifted, his bones rearranging with sickening cracks and muscles flowing to better suit him. Thick, dark fur sprouted from his skin, his teeth lengthened and feral blue eyes turned even more animalistic. Fenrir let out a great howl for the rising moon and launched out of his house, much faster in his larger wolf form. The wolf's mind was in more turmoil than Fenrir was, thoughts of its mate lying in a puddle of his blood, broken and holding out a hand for Fenrir to save him from his attackers hounded the protective beast.

It was worse than anything either of them could imagine. There was nothing there but ravaged land, scorch marks on the ground, trampled plants and Severus's harvesting bag. And blood. The iron smell rushed up Fenrir's sensitive nose and nearly caused him to stumble back but he couldn't. He could only turn his large head to the moon and howl out his distress.

SEVERUS!

(*Bonus*)

"What do you mean that you failed!?" the man hissed, slamming his fist onto the golden thrown he sat on. He glared red eyes down at the quivering fools kneeling before him, eyes averted and heads bowed except one that stared back at him.

"My King, he tore Nicolas's head off his neck without giving a single warning and I am sure that he has already found that you took his lover so you won't be happy if you sent us back," Pansy, the only woman of this team answered in leveled tones. The King paused and took on a thoughtful look, his mind slowly unraveling new plans.

"You say he tore off his head?" he tilted his pale, bald head to the side.

"In one pull… well he's not completely headless but close enough," Ron, the captain, gulped as he recalled the dangling sinewy and muscles that held the loose head with its eyes still blinking and mouth still moving. It was all he could do in that situation to not piss and shit himself as he ran for dear life. At the very least Harry and Hermione hadn't been subjected to that horror but it was definitely something that was going to keep him up for the next six years or so.

"My Liege, could you perhaps tell us as to why…?" Neville tried to ask why the man had sent them in the first place, why their king had stolen the evil wizard and planned on stealing the evil wizard's pet werewolf but it was cut off as the tall, skeletal man pushed himself to his feet in a flurry of heavy robes and shining jewelry. Had it not been for the fact that he'd be executed, Neville might have noted aloud that their King looked more like a Dark Lord than anything else. As it were, Neville wasn't as dumb as he appeared so he kept silent and tried to not scream as the man strode past them quickly and left the throne room.

"I suppose he couldn't dismiss us a little less subtly," Seamus joked good-naturedly, pushing himself to his feet. At the very least their heads were rolling across the ground so it was a perfect end to the day. Although he wondered if someone should go get Nicolas's body.

(**)

To Be Continued

So yeah, that's the first chapter. There's something about this whole idea that I don't like but… I couldn't get this out of my head!

P.S. No One is Related Unless Thoroughly Expressed… or if they're twins…


	2. Chapter 2

So… I accidentally deleted chapter two… it was a complete accident that happened because well, karma knows I deserve it. So, here's chapter three while I attempt to recreate the perfection that was chapter two. It was all about the trapped princess. There was singing and awesome and insane-Narcissa.

Chapter Three

(**)

Severus was not sure who was behind this indignity but someone was going to pay quite harshly for including Severus in it. He observed the prison he had been tossed into quite literally if the bruises and aches on his body were any indications. There was a thin cot, a shitty little basin and a window so small that the Potions Master would be lucky to get his entire hand through much less his body. Then there was the door which Severus assumed he'd be walking out of in a few moments. He took off his boots and opened the bottom of them, taking out his picking tools and set to work, anger growing by each passing second.

People just had little to no respect. They didn't know when to leave well enough alone, when to simply let him be. No, they had to push and pull, force his hand and unravel every good thing that he had accomplished. It was obvious that the Gods did not want him to be a relatively peaceful man that wanted nothing more than to be fucked in his grassy backyard with only the forest's monsters and critters to witness it. It was obvious that the Gods did not want his bloodied hands to become cleansed because if they did, this wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't be in this magic dampening cell with bruises and aches, he wouldn't have been torn from his hard earned garden and he certainly wouldn't be—

"Ah." A nasty smile erupted over Severus' face as the door gave a click and slowly swung open. Had anyone seen the look within the dark eyes, they would have run for the high hills without a warning to anyone else because the devil himself laughed from the bottomless black orbs. Severus stepped out of the cell and began to walk calmly down the halls, his movements graceful and slow. It was only the reassurance that everyone within three miles would pay for this indiscretion that stopped him from stomping, running or screaming to the high heavens.

He heard a noise, something like a rumbling of people… almost like a cheer. The nasty smile on Severus' face only became worse, a twisted and dark expression that spoke of total madness with little remorse. Quickly he started toward the sound, thin fingers coming up to caress the wand within his sleeve. This had happened before, a long time ago this had happened and he knew exactly how this would end.

Severus pushed open the heavy door and flinched due to the bright lights and the thunderous noise of people applauding and shouting as he stepped into a large arena. He kept his face purposely blank and strode to the very middle, looking at the thousands of people that would soon lay at his feet, drowning in their own blood.

Oh yes, he knew how this would end…

(**)

Fenrir stomped through the forest quickly, pushing himself to go as fast as possible. He didn't have time to waste especially after spending the entire night, howling like a brainless fool up at the moon. His heart was still clenching and the madness that had, long ago, threatened to consume him was still nibbling at the edges of his mind but he knew that it wouldn't dare overtake him until his mate was in his arms or proven to be absolutely dead.

And Gods above help those fuckers if there was so much as a scratch on his mate much less a lack of heartbeat. He stomped on a singing flower without noticing and then stared at the large castle that seemed to be slapped just outside of the little town that was right outside of his Forbidden Forests.

Yes, Gods Help Them.

It was empty, quiet… deserted. Not a single carriage in the lot, no sounds of humans wandering around in their dull way that they normally did. For a moment Fenrir wondered if they had somehow caught wind of his arrival but that certainly wouldn't cause everyone to run like the little bitches they were. No, some stupid brave few would have rallied up to fight him head on because they were stupid. Of course he would have then overcame them and bit out a lot of throats but that wasn't the point. Something was wrong but his mate had to be somewhere within this kingdom and he'd be damned if he didn't get that taciturn bastard back.

Wait… what was that sound? Fenrir twisted his head around in the empty, silent town as a small sound made its way to his ears. He followed it until he came to a sphere on a pole. What in the fuck? He neared it cautiously and suddenly it burst open with little mechanical puppets that were… singing? Fenrir felt his eye twitch as the little silver and green dressed dolls straightened and lined in the middle of the faux classroom.

"OOOOOOH WELCOME TO VOLOC

IT'S SUCH A PERFECT—!"

The song would have continued but Fenrir had no patience for it so he shoved his sharp fist through it and shattered the evil contraption before he could fall into a blood frenzy and kill everyone within a hundred yard radius. It was the most annoying, disgusting piece of horse—

Cheering. There was cheering not too far away from where he was standing. Of course that meant where there was cheering, there was people and where there was people, there had better be his mate, safe and fucking sound. Fenrir followed the noise of cheering until he came upon the small side door to what might have been an arena packed full with hundreds of townspeople and soldiers. Vaguely he heard the sound of fighting underneath their garbled words and the crackle of magic caused the hair on the back of his arms to stand.

Severus.

Fenrir threw open the door and rushed up the long flight of wooden stairs that was presented to him until he burst through another door and immediately found himself on the end of five, very sharp swords. He froze, unwilling to cause his own death by running forward like some kind of idiot but it was mighty hard as he spotted the man-thing that was responsible for this entire ordeal. Now, how did he know that this particular bald man with a bad dentist was the one that kidnapped his precious mate?

"I am the man that kidnapped your precious mate." That's how. Fenrir growled deep in his chest and felt his nails thickening, sharpening and his muscles began to shift in a painful half morph that he struggled to keep under control. The red eyed fucker smiled at him as though he didn't know that Fenrir would kill him the first chance he got then dismissed his guards in a foolish show of confidence.

"Fenrir, come sit down. You missed the beginning but the show is still going!" the man encouraged him with a grand sweep to his large seat. Fenrir twitched, his instincts telling him to kill and kill quickly with teeth and claws but if he wanted to see his lover, his mate, his everything then he had to keep this fucking thing alive. So, with a restrained growl he stomped forward and threw himself in the chair only to leap right out of it seconds later.

There was Severus—right in the middle of it. Surrounding him were the bodies of at least twenty men while fifty more still rushed at him. Even from this distance, he could see the bloodthirsty smile that curved into the thin pale lips and he could feel the magic that crackled as his lover threw himself high into the air, almost clearing the entire stadium then came back down harshly, cracking the ground and sending the rushing men flying backwards from the force along with several of the corpses.

"What is going on here!? And just who are you?" Fenrir demanded of the man that was just asking for his head to be disconnected from his fucking spine. He had to control himself, it was obvious that something was keeping Severus within the ring and killing this man might not free his lover but make it worse.

"My name is King Voldemort but the rest I will explain in due time. Please, sit down and enjoy the battle. I must admit that your mate is quite skilled," Voldemort smiled to show a mouthful of dagger teeth that glinted in the sun. Fenrir dug his nails into the flesh of his palm and forced his eyes back to his mate. Severus was sitting in the middle of a crudely drawn circle, shirt thrown open to reveal the many tattoo like runes staining his pale skin. They shone brightly, lighting up as his body slowly lifted a foot from the ground. The gasps of shock within the crowd suddenly turned to screams of horror as the dead soldiers were pulled to their feet by invisible strings. The warriors paused at the sight of their brethren rising up with weapons in their bloodied grasps but soon realized that not fighting would lead to their deaths as the animated corpses began to attack.

Reanimation? Fenrir felt his pants become tight at the sight of such powerful magic. Severus rarely used his abilities anymore since they started to live a life of peaceful isolation and watching him bring up corpses that moved effortlessly and fought as they would have alive turned him on like nothing else. Fenrir licked his lips as the runes glowed even brighter and the skinny man threw back his head, eyes wide open to reveal that darkness had taken residence there.

By the Moon Severus was the sexiest thing in the world. How had he been so lucky to get such a powerful, dark and beautiful mate? Fenrir just barely stopped himself from throwing himself out of the private box and into the ring so that he could throw his mate down and claim him over and over in front of every man, woman, and child. He could almost feel the rippling velvet that was his lover's entrance wrapped around his tongue, his fingers and Good Lord Almighty, his cock.

Fenrir pulled himself out of his lust cloud, focusing on the battle as last of the soldiers fell under the hands of their dead brethren. As soon as this happened, the king stood up from his chair and clapped along with the audience, red eyes alight with mirth and slight admiration. Fenrir stood also, eyes never leaving his mate as several men came onto the field. They were shouting something to Severus, something that Fenrir couldn't hear but he could only guess that they were trying to convince the man to not attack them. The still floating man didn't so much as twitch but the corpses did, standing on defense around his prone, glowing body. Fenrir felt his throat dry as the clapping ceased and the armored men dropped back.

"Archers at the ready!" a voice shouted and suddenly Severus was surrounded by hundreds of arrows, all aiming at him and the corpses. This was not good. Fenrir had faith in his lover, he truly did because Severus proved time and time again to be tougher than anything thrown at him but this was different. This was skilled archers with an unlimited amount of arrows aimed at him.

"Stop them and stop them now," Fenrir growled, whirling to unimpressed king.

"If you kill me, they will shoot and kill the alchemist. I suggest you convince your mate to stand down," the King shrugged with a sly smirk. Fenrir called in every favor to every God he had ever heard of to help him stay calm enough to not slit this man from balls to scalp.

"Hm… you want me to calm him down?" the wolf man tilted his head and smiled darkly. Voldemort was not sure why but he suddenly felt as though he chose the wrong words. Before he could alter his words or, at the very least, tell the man not to do something stupid, the feral beast threw himself from the box and onto the field. Voldemort felt his mouth drop open because, really, no one could be this idiotic!

(**)

Severus was not sure if the excessive use of magic had caused him to hallucinate or if his mate had really come falling from the sky to land several feet outside his reanimated corpse barrier with several broken bones sticking from his tanned skin. He watched as the rugged man groaned and rolled in the dirt as his broken body slowly pieced itself back together. No, this had to be real because Severus often imagined what it would be like to have a smart man for a mate rather than this dullard he unfortunately fell in love with.

"Hold fire!" a distant voice shouted. Severus did not twist his head to see who spoke although he vaguely entertained the thought of leading his corpse on a havoc spree throughout the town but there was the problem of that magic dampening stone right at the entrance. He could have them climb into the stadium and kill many but once the doors were opened, he'd be exposed until the outer ring.

"Hello doll face," Fenrir suddenly grinned from the ground.

"Hello dunderhead," Severus scoffed, his voice coming out as a dark echo. Fenrir gave a shudder and Severus knew it had nothing to do with fear but rather, lust. If he had the immaturity, the black haired man would have rolled his eyes at the hedonist moron that was his lover. A pissing contest like this would definitely turn Fenrir on and the fact that he hadn't released the magic as of yet, probably made Fenrir harder than a diamond.

"So… there's this bald guy—."

"If this is the beginning of a horrendous joke, I do not wish to hear it."

"Such a prissy little bitch, you are my love. Anyway, put down the puppets and let's find out what this bald guy wants. Then I can bite his throat out." Fenrir smiled with all of his sharp teeth as he stood up to his imposing height. Severus wished to say that wasn't the least bit aroused by the showing pieces of flesh and the blood staining the remaining clothing but his lover did make quite the sight.

"You haven't attempted to do so already?" Severus raised a brow. Fenrir was more of the 'kill first and don't bother with questions later' then again, the man had mellowed some in their time of peace. The dark wizard turned his eyes up to the crowds and pointing arrows. Hm, what were the chances of being able to protect his mate while also getting them out of this arena?

"Nope! And I thought you'd be proud to hear that I've only killed two people and they both deserved it… and I've been thinking about fucking you since I woke up from your lovely sedation," Fenrir boasted loudly, thrusting out his chest like a preening peacock. Fucking… idiot…

Severus sighed, the chances were not good. He would have to stand down, wait for an opening, and hope that these assholes weren't also cowards that would shoot him in the back rather than stand to face him. A smirk curved onto the wizard's lips as he released his spell on the corpses and allowed himself to fall gracelessly to the ground. This reminded him much of the old days. He looked up at his large lover who was smiling lustfully at him, hefty paw of a hand reaching down to pull him to his feet. Just as their hands clasped together, the arena was once again swarmed with men, this time those with arrows although their approach was still cautious. Severus raised a brow, looking at the men from around Fenrir's muscles.

"Drama queens," he rolled his eyes, "You would think that I was actually dangerous."

(**)

Fenrir frowned as he stared at the man sitting across from him. He wasn't sure if his ears needed to be cleaned out or if his brain needed a good washing too because whatever he had heard five seconds ago certainly wasn't correct. He glanced at the corner of his eye to see that Severus also had the expression that said he was too shocked by utter stupidity to actually speak. It wasn't very often that he saw his cherished mate with his mouth dropped open and a brow struggling not to quirk all the way up to his hairline.

"So… let me get this right because I'm not the brightest candle in the shed or some such rot," Fenrir started, shifting in his plush chair. He leaned towards the bald snake hybrid, ignoring the shifting of his guards. "You kidnapped Severus, my mate, because you wanted him to do that whole tournament thing to prove just how powerful he is."

"Yes, that is true." Voldemort nodded as though that was the whole gist of the story. His glowing red eyes shifted to Severus and a smile etched onto his nearly nonexistent lips, "You are as skilled as I had assumed, alchemist."

"Yeah, yeah. We get that Severus is amazing, why else would he be my mate?" Fenrir growled, feeling as though the other man was trying to move onto his territory. He knew it was a senseless thought seeing as his wizard had a thing for hairy bodies and muscles, both which this man lacked. "So anyway, you kidnap him and send your men to kidnap me. I tear the head off one and the rest come running to you. I come stomping into your little set up with every intention of ripping off your head too but I don't because you threaten the life of my mate. And this is where I get confused… you want me to leave my mate here so that I can… find some princess and… return her to Voloc"

"Yes." Fenrir tapped his hand against the arm of the chair, listening to the scrape of his nails on the fine wood. Maybe he should reword his statement just to make sure that it was being said correctly.

"You want me, Fenrir Greyback, to go rescue a princess from a tower in the middle of fuck-all."

"Yes." Okay… maybe that wasn't the way he should have reworded it. Perhaps this man didn't know what he was getting himself into. Surely he didn't realize that Fenrir turned into a slobbering beast and that Severus could very well kill everyone in this town with enough time and the right words.

"And if I don't? Killing Severus will make me not only kill you but piss in your skull." There, that should get his point across.

"… That is disgusting, you foul beast!"

"But it's true. I won't even kill you before sticking my dick in your eye hole and pissing into your brain. I've done it before, you won't die instantly." The bald man's mouth was twisted in absolute disgust and it looked as though he was on the point of vomiting as the images assaulted his brain much like hot piss would should Severus be killed. He glanced at his mate who was watching with great amusement, stained fingers folded in front of him and onyx eyes glimmering.

"Now Fenrir, we don't want the man losing his breakfast, that would be rude," Severus smirked.

"It's just a truthful little warning S—."

"Listen here, I am tired of these pleasantries so I shall explain this in layman's terms. Severus shall stay here until you return. I will give you two days and every day that you are gone after those two days, he shall fight to the death when the sun is at its highest. He will fight wizards, mages, shinobi, reapers, mercenaries, and beasts that are only in nightmares," Voldemort hissed. Fenrir raised a brow and shared a look with his lover only to see that the man actually appeared concerned by this threat. It wasn't obvious to the naked eye or, rather, anyone that hadn't seen the man naked with his face twisted in pleasure.

"You've seen what Severus did to your fighters not even half a chapter ago, he will defeat anything that you throw at him," Fenrir boasted.

"But for how long? While I admit that your lover is strong, is he strong enough to go to battle, every day with opponents that will be there to observe each fight and learn from their fallen comrades' mistakes?" Voldemort hummed, smiling nastily. Fenrir then understood the exact gravity of the situation because what this madman said was true. His lover was strong and crafty but even he had his limits. Eventually he would be felled by one of the other fighters and never would he stand again. His heart twisted sharply in his chest and hatred built in the back of his throat.

"I'll do this, you bald snake faced bitch but you had better hope Severus needs medical help once this is over because nothing else will stop me from tearing off your balls and shoving them in your mouth… after I piss in your skull," Fenrir growled, the sound echoing in his chest. Voldemort didn't flinch at the threat but he could see that the man was frightened. He was scared under that façade of cunning bravery. And that was good because he was very, very serious.

Fenrir shoved himself to his feet and strode over to his black haired mate, pulling the man from his chair in that rough grasp that Severus loved to feel against his flesh. The man tilted his head up and accepted his rough kiss, mouth open and hot. Their tongues twisted together in a desperate passion and Fenrir's hands roamed down his mate's body and cupped the delicious arse he loved to lick, suck and fuck. If he wasn't sure that Severus would slay him where he stood, he would have thrown the man against the wall and have his dirty, dirty way with him as he had wanted to do since he awakened in the morning.

"Do not worry," Severus panted as he pulled away, "You shall soon do those lovely actions once more."

Damn, he forgot that Severus could read his mind. The man smirked smugly and leaned up to plant a chaste kiss upon his lips, a soft peck of bruised lips that held the love that was never truly said out loud. Fenrir shivered and returned with all the love his shriveled heart could offer. Then he was the one to disconnect their joining to cup his lover's angular face in his large hands. He looked deep in those onyx eyes and saw something like doubt and fear swimming behind the wall of coldness that his mate normally had.

"I'm going to come back," he promised suddenly. Severus hesitated and something flashed behind those onyx eyes, much too fast for Fenrir to see then he nodded, spider like fingers coming up to brush against the hands framing his face.

"Hurry."

(**)

To Be Continued

And there you go! A bit sappy at the end but eh, couldn't help it.

Comment or Fenrir will… not cuddle with you. Ha! You thought I was going to say 'piss in your skull', didn't you!? To tell the truth, I have no idea where I came up with that but once I typed it, I realized how funny it sounded (I'm disturbed) and that I can imagine him doing it (not that I would… y'know, imagine Fenrir doing something like that).


End file.
